


Foolish Desires

by MustardGal



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 13:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MustardGal/pseuds/MustardGal
Summary: Arthur Morgan is having a very bad day.  After an unfortunate incident leaves him wounded, he finds himself with Mrs. Adler.  Together the two of them discuss - among other things - where their loyalties lie.





	Foolish Desires

Arthur Morgan was having a very bad day.   

The sun was blinding as he knelt by his horse’s leg, who danced hesitantly in place, favoring her hind leg.  He inwardly groaned as he saw the blood, shimmering in the light of the sun, sticky and coating the unfortunate limb.  It wasn’t a life threatening cut. No, it was only surface deep, he decided, prodding his fingers around the wound. Still, it was bleeding like hell, and with a wound like this, he best get it cleaned up.

He stood back up, popping his back as he did so.  The evening sun was nearly past the mountains, meaning he had to get to work if he wanted his camp set up before nightfall.  It went by fast, more habit than anything, as he gathered small bits of wood and kindling. Within moments a small fire was lit and he was rummaging through his bag, grabbing whisky and a clean cloth.

It had been a stupid act on his part, pushing his horse through the forest.  He had an ache to return back to camp, to sleep on his cot, maybe have a drink or two with John or Lenny before eventually passing out.  Another couple hours of hard riding and he could’ve been home - a temporary one, to be fair - but home.

That was not the case.  Instead, a black bear, sitting unawares, minding his own business, scared Arthur’s horse witless, bucking him off before jumping and slipping down a small ravine and scraping a leg against a sharp rock.  Arthur had landed half in a bush, half in a pile of mud and from the smell of it, fresh dung.

His horse had miraculously survived the slide down the ravine, landing on her feet, though spooked beyond all hell.  It had taken several minutes of Arthur trying to calm the beast, talking in low tones. The horse was too precious to scare away now.  Caught wild only a few months before, it still hadn’t gained his trust completely. 

It also carried a pile of skins he had taken so much time hunting for.   He had planned to trade them off for a bit of cash, cash his camp desperately needed at the moment.  Ever since the hasteful departure from Blackwater, they’ve barely been scraping by. He was trying to do his part.

Arthur lit a cigarette, spared from the mud from being in his pocket, and inhaled in deeply before setting to work on repairing the horse’s leg.  A few calming words, a small dash of whisky, and the leg was wrapped tightly. He would have to wash out the blood in the nearby creek, which he led the horse to after tossing his cigarette into the fire.  He grabbed a spare shirt - his only one - and soaked it in the creek, using it to wipe off his horse and himself. 

By then, the sun had set, casting the world in a blanket of darkness.  Wolves howled in the distance, too far away to be of any worry. The black bears were harmless, already spooked by the noise he had made earlier.  He would be safe that night.

He tethered his horse not too far from the fire and went once again to the creek, intent on washing his dung soaked clothes before he went to bed.  He might be a heathen and not bathe for at least a week at a time - but this dung was particularly vile. Besides, he was planning on passing civilization tomorrow, and the townsfolk were none too friendly with their comments about his appearance and smell.  Mary-Beth, in particular, had wrinkled her nose at the sight of him last week, and tossed him a small soap bar, smelling heavily of some flower he couldn’t place.

With crickets and the occasional howl as company, Arthur stripped from his clothing without much thought to modesty.  He washed his shirt and pants first, hoping they would be dry by morning. There was still a stickiness to the air, leftover from the hot sun of the day.   It would be a warm night.

His long johns were clean of mud, however they smelled strongly of himself.  Too strongly. He’d have to give them a thorough cleaning as well, meaning he’d be stuck during the night in the nude.  At least he had his blanket, if a little smelly itself. 

The water was waist deep and freezing.  He didn’t linger, scrubbing the soap harshly on his clothing, then on himself, spending more time around his face.  His beard had gotten pretty long. When was the last time he had shaved? 

He hadn’t worried about his appearance in years, ever since Mary.  

He blinked.  Damn. What made him think of her all the sudden?  That was long ago. Or a few months, when she had popped up out of the blue.  He had bent over backwards trying to find her brother and she had still left. She knew how to wrap him around her finger, that’s for sure.  Even though it’d been years, he’d still do anything for her.

His stomach growled, breaking his thoughts.  He eyed the form of the turkey hanging from his horse’s saddle.  Guess it was time to dig into…

He eye caught something small moving by the fire.  _  Shit _ , he cursed, kneeling down.  Several coyotes. Harmless, but they had smelled the small, dead squirrel he had been carrying in his bag.  His horse had accidently stepped on the poor fellow and Arthur had figured to grab the carcass. 

“Scat!” He yelled and dashed forward, water spraying everywhere.  Too late. One coyote had his mouth around his pack and was off in less than a second.  

“God dammit!” Arthur growled, grabbing his pants and forcing his legs through the soggy material.  He couldn’t ride the horse; he’d have to follow on foot. That pack contained half of his money, the other half tucked away in his saddlebag.  He needed that money.

He didn’t bother with shoes.  As the coyotes ran away he followed, snatching his rifle from the saddle and headed into the forest brush.  They were easy to track, despite it getting dark. There were no clouds in the sky, the moonlight providing sufficient light.  

The coyotes started up the mountain hill Arthur had just come down from, deep in the brush instead of the main trail.  He grunted as he climbed up, the excursion hard on his already tired body. The hill had gotten steep, with trees jutting out of the mountainside.  He used the branches as leverage to pull himself up. 

A shine caught his eye and he sighed in relief as he saw his pack hanging from a tree branch, the contents scattered across the forest floor.  Gingerly he tried not to slip as he picked up his items, the money clip secure in his hand. The squirrel was the only thing missing and he was just fine with that.

A chill wrenching scream sounded in the distance.  “Ah, what now?” Arthur muttered, sealing his pack shut.  He clambered over to the edge of the hill and looked down, a forgotten pathway carved up into the hill.  A horse neighed, accompanied by a scream. As it was getting closer, Arthur guessed it was headed down the path.  He settled down, peering over the ledge, ready to take action if he needed to.

It was only a moment before the horse appeared.  A man wearing a tattered hat and old clothing was sitting on the horse, looking calm as he traveled.  It was the package behind him that caught Arthur’s interest. Once the package moved, his heart dropped a little.

“You bastard!” A woman, not a package, sputtered, her voice shrill with terror.  “Let me go!”

“Shut it,” the man responded, his voice curt.  He was obviously fed up with her screams.

They were less than ten feet away.  Arthur gripped the branch to his side and took a few breaths in anticipation, then threw himself towards the man.  He landed at the man’s shoulder, knocking him off the horse successfully. There was a crack as the two landed, the horse kicking off in fright.  Arthur was prepared to have a fight, but the man was unresponsive. 

He backed away, grimacing at the flowing blood on the rock the man had landed on.  Even if the man was alive, he wouldn’t be for long. His head was most likely split open and there was not a doctor close by who could save him in time.  

He left him, jogging towards the lady tied uncomfortably on the horse.  “Hold on, now,” Arthur said, picking up the small woman and setting her gently on the ground.  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Not a woman, a young girl.  Maybe fifteen. Clad in nothing but her nightgown.  Her eyes were full of fright and tears, her face covered in blood and snot from a broken nose.  He untied her quickly then backed away, giving her distance.

The woman sniffed, sitting up and rubbing her red wrists.  “You saved me. The… things, the man said he’d do to me.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Arthur said.  “You okay?”

“Fine, but my nose…” she touched her nose and flinched.  

“It’s broken, alright.  We’d best get a doctor to look at you.”

She shook her head fiercely.  “I want to get home. My pa - he’s already looking for me, I know it.”

Arthur sighed.  The night was getting more complicated.  “Do you want me to escort you?” 

She eyed him up and down.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, sir… but you look no better than that man over there.  My pa would skin you alive. No, I can ride into town. I know how to get back. I live not too far from Rhodes.”

Arthur wasn’t going to argue with her.  “The main path isn’t too far from here. Stick with it and you should reach Rhodes in a couple of hours.  Don’t stop for anyone, you hear?”

“Yes sir.”  She stood up and dusted off her nightgown.  

Arthur moved the horse to her and she mounted with ease.  “What’s your name?” she asked him.

“Arthur Morgan.”

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan.  I’m afraid I have nothing to give you.”

“No need.  Get home, girl.”  He softly whacked the horse on the rear and it was off, trotting down the path and out of sight.  He turned to the dying man and contemplated him for a few moments. The man deserved an even worse death than what he got.  No matter. He was dead, girl was safe, time for him to return to his horse.

Looking like a mountain man with an unkempt beard, wild hair, and clad in nothing but jeans, Arthur understood why she hadn’t wanted him along with her.  He looked as decrepit as the man who took her. At least he smelled clean.

He made his way back slowly, squinting in the night.  A cloud must’ve covered the moon, halting his only source of light.  It was easier descending as he slid down the hill, his feet now covered in dirt.  He’d have to wash them again. Hell, he’d just take another bath. Mary-Beth would be proud.

The ground became flat for a small bit before he had to go further down the hill.   He jumped through several bushes and just as the moonlight peaked again, he landed on his right foot and suddenly buckled, sharp pain shooting up from his ankle.  He yelled, not used to the sudden burst of pain. 

Whatever he had landed on was positioned above the next curve of hill.  Without meaning to, he rolled forward down the hill, only stopping as his back hit a trunk and something tugged at his foot, holding him taught.  

Stars danced across his vision and he laid there, collecting his thoughts.   _ Arthur Morgan _ , he thought,  _ you  _ are _ having a really, really bad day. _

His ankle throbbed as he reached for a low branch, pulling himself up to look at his foot.   _ Not good _ , he thought.  His ankle was entrapped in a rusty and sharp bear trap.  Judging from the wear and tear of it, it had since long been forgotten until now.    _ Idiot. _  It had been well concealed underneath the bushes.

He tried to sit up, his body awkwardly positioned down the slope, his foot already taught in the trap.  It would take some extreme effort on his part. Gingerly, he tried to slink up the slope, using his arms to push himself up.  The pain lessened slightly around his foot as he slowly reached the flat area.

When he was where he wanted to be, he collapsed and took a few deep breaths, staring at the stars in the night sky, barely visible through the trees.  Why had it come to this? Half an hour ago he should have been preparing his dinner. But no. He had been stupid and not watched where he was going.

He slowly sat up, grimacing as every movement sent a wave of pain.  The bear trap was situated around his ankle, two claws embedded deep into his skin.  Blood was seeping out, drenching his foot and the forest floor.  _ Not good. _  There wouldn’t be anyone around to help him.  He’d have to force the trap off his foot - he’d helped a man in the past in the same situation.  It had been a struggle, but Arthur had been able to do it. Now that it was he who was stuck, he didn’t know if he could do it now.

He for sure wasn’t going to die out here.  Gritting his teeth, he put his hands around the trap’s claws and took a deep breath.  After a moment of steeling himself, he yanked the claws open, letting out a small yell as he did so.  One of the claws caught on his foot as he yanked it out, ripping a small, deep cut further down his foot.  

He tossed the trap away and held his leg, rocking back and forth.  His ankle was broken, he was sure of it. What a time for this to happen.

His camp was just down the hill. “Sorry, girl,” he muttered and then whistled.  He heard his horse neigh in response and waited patiently for the animal to find her way up to him.  It was only a couple minutes until the bright white horse came into view, limping towards him. Arthur stood on his good foot, holding onto the saddle once she reached him.  He shouldn’t be riding her so soon after her injury, but he was desperate. He used his arms to lift himself up and swing his injured foot around. With a slight kick, the horse was descending down the hill and into their camp not far away.

Once he reached his dying campfire, he eased off the horse with care, then sank next to his pack where his shirt and whisky was.  He needed a doctor, though he could probably wait until morning. The night was still young and his horse needed a break more than anything.

He did the best he could with wrapping up his foot.  Sure enough, his foot had swollen to twice its size and was none too pleasant to look at.  He used his canteen of water, whisky, and his old shirt to wrap it up. 

“We’re a sorry couple, ain’t we,” Arthur groaned as he threw some more logs onto the fire.  He wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and dug into a can of beans, savoring the flavor.  It wasn’t the best, but right now, the food tasted amazing. He chugged the rest of his whisky, trying to dull the pain in his foot.  Better off drunk so he could sleep easier through the night.

An hour or two later he was out like a light, only to be woken rudely by someone else. 

“Shit, Arthur, what have you done to yourself?” he heard a woman say.   Cracking open his eyes, he saw Sadie leaning over him, brown eyes full of concern.  

“Handlin’ myself well, thank you,” Arthur responded.  He moved to sit up, though Sadie pushed him back down with a firm hand.  

“Sit down.  I have some medicine - drink this.” Sadie shoved a small bottle into his hands.  “It’ll help numb your foot. Lucky for you I was in town getting supplies. I have some bandages…” she poked Arthur’s poorly wrapped foot.  “I’d best get to work.”

Arthur sat up and moved until his back was against a fallen tree, then let Sadie do her work.  She put several logs on the fire and tied her blond hair back. He still wasn’t used to her in men’s clothes.   They had found her only a few months ago, her husband killed and she losing her house and property to a fire. Still, she tagged along with them, as grumpy as she was.

Just a couple weeks ago she had proven herself to be independent and strong-willed.   She was one of the better shooters - she knew how to aim - but keeping her head cool was next to impossible.  She had a fire in her which refused to go out.

That’s what Arthur admired about her.  That, and her pretty face. She pushed on, despite everything that’s happened to her.

“Why are you starin’ at me all weird?” Sadie asked, lifting an eyebrow.  She had unwrapped his foot and was using a rag to wipe away the dried blood.

Arthur hadn’t meant to be caught staring.  “Nothin’. Just… grateful you’re here, Sadie.”

“From the looks of it, you’ve been busy,” she said, motioning to the stack of furs on his horse.  “Those look like nice pelts. They’ll bring in a pretty penny.”

“How’d you find me, anyways?”

“A young girl rode into town, all frantic.  Her daddy had been creating a ruckus in the town, searchin’ for her.  All the sudden the girl shows up, clad in nothin’ but her nightclothes.  She mentioned your name, and, well, said you were a wild mountain man who saved her life.  Since I was stayin’ the night in town, figured I pay you a visit, and we could return home together.”

“The town’s an hour away.  I’m amazed you found me.” Arthur flinched as she wiped too hard at his foot. 

Sadie grinned apologetically.  “Sorry. Let’s just say this is my way of sayin’ thank you for supporting me, lettin’ me shoot with the men.”

“Of course.  We’re proud to have you.”

“Ever since runnin’ into those Lemoyne raiders…  I’ve changed. And I know who I want to be.” Sadie contemplated his foot, slowly wrapping a clean bandage around it.  “I think you broke your ankle, Arthur. It’s black and blue. We’re gonna need to stop by the doctor on the way back. Miss Grimshaw is gonna be puttin’ ya on light duty.”

Arthur chuckled.  “I’m sure she’ll find something for me to do.  You likin’ it okay at the new place?”

“It’s scenic.  That’s all it has goin’ for it.”  Sadie tied the bandage and sat back.  “We’ll leave in the morning.”

Arthur paused, hearing a small branch break behind him.  He held up a finger to his mouth, warning Sadie to be quiet.  There were crickets, the rush of water, and the wind, though something was amiss.  He reached for his belt and holster, belting it around his waist, his fingers twitching for his gun.

Sadie kept very still, her fingers hovering over her own pistol, eyes darting back and forth.  The water was behind her, the moonlight coating her shoulders and head in a bright light. From this angle, Arthur couldn’t help but admit to himself how pretty she looked.  Determined. He liked it. 

A gunshot sounded from behind Arthur and he jumped, slinking down the tree he was leaning against.  Sadie screamed and dove beside him, pistol raised and ready for action.

“You okay?” He asked her, his own gun ready.  He was eying her shoulder where the bullet would have landed.

“They missed.”  Sadie peeked up over the log.  “Who’s there?”

“The Lemoyne Raiders!” A voice shouted back at her.  “You’re going to pay for what you did to our men, you bitch!”  

“Shit,” Sadie cursed.  

“Get ready.”

Sadie smiled, her eyes twinkling.  “I’m always ready.” She reached into her pack and pulled out a stick of dynamite.  Without hesitation she leaned over and lit it with the fire. “Once I throw this, we’re going to get on my horse.”

“But-”

She tossed the dynamite toward where she thought the raiders were.  To Arthur’s amazement, the raiders screamed and he was being helped to his feet by Sadie, her horse by their side in an instant.  He hopped on first - still a little woozy from the whisky and the potion - and Sadie hopped behind him, shooting off rounds as she did so.  With a click of her tongue, the horse ran full speed away.

Arthur whistled to have his own horse follow them.  

“You lead, I’ll shoot,” Sadie shouted in his ear.  “Head toward town - they’ll not follow us there.”

“If you say so!” Arthur led the horse down the riverside and onto the main path.  At this time of night, the roads would be clear. He wouldn’t have to worry about colliding with anyone.  Over his shoulder he could hear Sadie whooping with delight as she let off shots to the riders behind them.  “How many are there?”

Sadie gripped his waist as they rounded a tight corner.  “Four. There was six.”

“Nice aimin’, Sadie!  They the same men who tried to rob us before?”

“They must be.”

Arthur flinched as a bullet passed by his ear.  “Do me a favor and hurry up and get rid of them?”  He pushed the horse off the main course, trying to make it harder for the raiders to shoot them.

“With pleasure.”  

Screams sounded off, one after the other, as the men fell off their horses.  Sadie patted Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s done, they’re all dead.”

Arthur pulled back on the reigns.  “Woah!” The horse slowed to a halt, breathing heavily.  “I left all my clothes back at camp,” Arthur groaned. He patted his satchel.  “I don’t think it’s worth goin’ back. At least I have this.”

“We’ll have to buy you some new clothes before we return to camp.  At least we still have the furs and my packs. And we’re only a mile or so out of town, we can get a hotel room for the night and call ourselves even.  But first, we pay a visit to the doctor.”

“Think he’ll be up, this late at night?”

Sadie frowned.  “Probably not, but I know where he lives.   He’s a nice enough man that he’ll make an exception for us.  His home is just outside town.”

They road to the house in silence, mostly due to the late hour and the exhaustion of being chased.  Arthur, for one, was tired of all the random shooting, the chasing, and the rushing. The day and night had just dragged on, and he was tired.  He was ready for a long night’s rest.

They arrived at the doctor’s house.  A soft knock on the door, a few exchanged coins, and Arthur hobbled into the doctor’s living room.  Without any questions, the doctor set to work on sewing the wound closed on his foot. He was an older man, in his late fifties, with wrinkles on his bearded face, his eyes kind.  He must be used to late night calls, Arthur realized. 

His foot and ankle was bound in thick bandages.  “This is the best I can do,” the doctor said, sitting back in his chair.  “You have a broken bone, but it does not feel like a terrible one. I had to stitch the tears in your foot, as well. Stay off your foot for a few weeks and you’ll be back to your old self.  No walking.”

“A few weeks?” Arthur repeated, disappointed.  He had so much to do, errands to run for Dutch and the others.  It would set him and the camp back for awhile.

“If you want to heal, yes.  And here, I have a spare cane.  Use it.” The doctor stood and walked over to a closet, opening it and taking out a simple wooden cane.  “Do you have a place to stay?”

“The lady went to rent a room at the hotel.  Thank you, doctor. I appreciate it.” Arthur reached over and shook the man’s hand.

“You’re welcome.  Remember, take the medicine I’m sending with you.  It’ll help fight off infection.”

“Of course.”  

Sadie walked in, her hair unbound and sleepiness in her eyes.  “I’ve got a room, Arthur. Let’s get you over there.”

With an awkward hobble, Arthur followed her out of the room and to the horses.  Together they rode to the hotel and hitched up their horses outside. Arthur tried to help bring in their packs, only to have Sadie shoo him off to the room, saying she would handle it.

In the end, Arthur gave up.  When Sadie was angry, you don’t cross her.  He limped up the stairs, favoring his foot, and entered the room.  One bed. He eyed in with a frown. 

“And don’t you go saying I need the bed,” Sadie said, bursting through the door with her pack in her hands.  She tossed them to the floor. “There’s enough room for two, we can share it.”

“Isn’t it a bit, indecent-” Arthur began.

“We’re adults, Arthur.”  Sadie left again. 

Arthur scratched his nose and shrugged, knowing not to push it further.  Fine. He could play along. His jeans, stiff and only semi-dry, were the only clothing he owned at the moment.  He would rather sleep without them, but that would not be the decent thing to do. He quickly settled in bed, it crinkling with every move.  It was a small town and hopefully the bed didn’t have bed bugs. There’s been too many places he’s stayed where they had them and it was an uncomfortable experience.  

Sadie entered the room with her last pack, setting it down by the only chair in the room.  With a long sigh, she took off her rifle and her belt, putting them tenderly by the dresser.  

Arthur watched her curiously.  Her shoulders had relaxed and he could see she moved with tired limbs.  She had been working hard the last few weeks. 

“I’m gonna be changin’, don’t you be lookin’,” Sadie said, looking over her shoulder.  

“Now, Mrs. Adler, I would never,” Arthur said, drawing out the words.  He averted his gaze, focusing on the random scuffs on the wall. His breath halted as he felt a small cough building up.  He buried them into his hand, his chest hurting with each cough. It wouldn’t be surprising if he got a cold or a fever after all of this.  It would only add to his bad day.

The bed shifted as Sadie crawled in.  “You sound awful,” she said, frowning.  She leaned over and placed a hand on his forehead.  “No fever. You’ll be okay, Arthur.”

“I know.”  

Sadie settled underneath the covers, turning off the light beside her.  Darkness flooded into the room. A few moments and blinks and Arthur’s eyes adjusted.  He turned to see the outline of Sadie’s face, her hair strewn about the pillow. A memory flashed over him and he looked away.  No. He wouldn’t think of the last moment he had lain in a bed with a woman. He didn’t want to think of her name. 

“You ever wonder where we are headed?” Sadie suddenly asked him, her voice soft against her pillow.  “What are we doin’, Arthur? What’s our goal?”

“You know.  Dutch has a  _ plan _ .  Haven’t you been listenin’?” Arthur said sarcastically.  

“Do you believe it?”

Arthur closed his eyes and took a moment to respond.  “I’ve been loyal to Dutch since I was a young man. He’s been there for me.  What choice do I have but to believe it?”

A soft laugh was Sadie’s response.  “You’re too loyal, Arthur Morgan. I hope you know that.”

“Maybe.”

Five minutes passed and Arthur wasn’t feeling tired at all.  He had been gripping the blanket rather hard; something was bothering him.  It wasn’t thoughts of Mary. It was thoughts of Sadie’s comment of loyalty. She was right.  Dutch hadn’t been able to pull through on anything lately. Talks of Tahiti… or some other remote place.  Disrupting and uplifting their lives completely. Arthur would have to leave everything he knew behind. 

“Do you miss him?” he said before thinking, meaning her late husband.

Sadie shifted on the bed, rolling on her side so she could face him.  “All the time.”

“I realize you’ve been with us recently and have an… outside point of view.  Loyalty. I’ve been loyal. Plenty of times. Not only to Dutch, but… Eliza.”

“Eliza?”

“A girl.  She had my son, Isaac.”  Arthur didn’t know why he was telling her this.  It was private. It was his memory, but it was something on his mind right then.  If he couldn’t talk, he’d explode. 

“I kept by her, supportin’ her.  I would’ve lived with her, but... one of the times I was gone with Dutch and the gang… she was dead.  My son, too. I found their graves when I went back to them. They were killed over a lousy ten dollars.”

Sadie kept silent.

“That’s what my loyalty to Dutch has cost me.  I think… I realized I can’t be two people. It’s why I stick with Dutch, Sadie.  I’m too involved.”

“You could leave.”

“The gang needs me.”

“No,” Sadie said sternly, “the gang needs to realize somethin’.  Things are changing. You know this, I know this. Dutch  _ doesn’t. _  I am stickin’ with you lot because I have something I need to finish.  My husband deserves better. But you, Arthur? You’ve done your fare share.  You deserve to get out. You’re a good guy.”

Arthur chuckled.  “I killed plenty of men in my time, Sadie.  I’m not a good man.” 

“You’ve survived.  You don’t kill for pleasure.  Listen. If you feel the need to get out, get out.  I’ll help you - I’m sure there are others. Abigail?  She’s been ready to get out years ago. I am sure you could convince John.  I see him tryin’ to be a husband to Abigail and a father. They deserve better.”

“Why is it when I hear you say these things, it seems possible?” Arthur murmured.  

Sadie smiled at him.  “Because I’m always right.”

“Thank you, Sadie.  It’s been awhile since… well, since I’ve talked to someone.  Like this.” Arthur looked over to her, taking in her image. The moonlight hit her face, barely making her freckles visible.  Her nightgown slipped over one shoulder, leaving it bare, the smooth skin making him ache for… something. It’d been too long. Too long since he’s been with a woman.  He looked away, cursing his thoughts. 

She was attractive.  He had noticed it from the first time he met her, had caught himself staring at her.  It was hard not to. He had gotten to know her, but… not like this. 

Sadie’s hand caught his face, pulling him back to make eye contact.  Her fingers scratched his scraggly beard, her eyes wide and searching his face for reassurance.  Arthur’s heart beat fast as he waited for her to say something.

“We’re shaving this off in the morning,” she whispered.  

“I’d like that,” he said huskily.  His foot was throbbing, but he noticed it wasn’t the only part of him that had started to throb.  Goddammit.

She leaned over hesitantly, her lips hovering above his.  She waited for his approval. 

_ You are a  _ foolish _ man, Arthur Morgan.   _ He closed the distance between them, sealing his lips against her.  It was a light kiss, something that had been both been forgotten by them.  A small kiss of someone new, someone exciting.

The need for each other was sudden, ravenous.  Both had been starved for touch ever since they lost their loved ones.  Her lips were soft, fierce, wanting, her hands holding his face close to her.

He moved his hands without thinking, pushing Sadie back down on the bed, his hands running down her body.  He felt her shudder, making him slow down. He broke their kisses and trailed more kisses down her neck, biting down hard.  She laughed nervously as his beard tickled her neck, his hands exploring the curve of her back, her waist, her hip. 

“I don’t mind, Arthur,” she murmured.  “I think… I think I need you. Tonight.”

Arthur paused in his trail down her body and leaned up to lay a soft kiss on her cheek.  “Sadie,” he said. He felt the same. The desire. He’d admired her ever since he’d met her.  They’d sort themselves out later, but tonight… tonight, it was just them, in a bed, on a night that was their own. 

He kissed her tenderly, pressing his body against her, moving his hands cautiously down, towards the edge her gown.  He nudged his hand under and trailed his fingers softly against her skin, lifting the gown up. She was bare underneath, but he’d take time to admire that later.  For now, he was enjoying the feeling of the woman. His fingers met the curve of her breast and he brushed against them lightly; Sadie groaned in response. With a quick maneuver the two of them worked the nightgown over her head, leaving her naked before him.

He paused, letting his eyes rake her body.  A small curve of the hip, ample breasts, nipples waiting to be touched.  He obliged, putting his mouth around one and his fingers around the other.  Sadie shivered underneath him as he ran his tongue around the nipple, sucking lightly, his other fingers toying with the other.  

After exploring her beautiful, full breasts he let his hand wander down, running into the curls of her privates, teasing her by moving so slowly.  He felt her hands grip his hair and back in anticipation. He ran his fingers down and began to rub her, listening for her small cues of approval. Oh yes.  Her small gasps of air told him everything. 

“Arthur,” she gasped as he moved down, his tongue quickly finding the ways to further please her.  A few moments in he could feel her ready for him, wet and inviting. It had been awhile since he had pleased a woman this way.  He broke away and leaned back up to her, kissing her full on the mouth while pushing a finger in the warm folds of her body, moving back and forth. 

“Arthur,” she gasped again and shoved him back on the bed.  She was on him in a second, kissing him wildly as she undid his pants.  Together they worked on getting the pants off, flinging it to the floor.  It was Arthur’s turn to gasp as her hands lightly grasped his member, caressing it with the lightest of touches.  She teased him then by rubbing her privates against him as she kissed him, then sank lower, her kisses landing on his shaft.  Her mouth grabbed him and he let out a loud groan as she moved up and down ever so slowly. He felt himself shudder as she moved in a rhythm, arching his back with each motion, the touch of her tongue-

“Sadie, if you continue,” he huffed as she worked, “I shall surely explode-”

She ceased her play and lifted herself up, sinking herself onto him in one slick motion.  The two of them paused as they made contact, staring at each other through a blurry haze. Then she started rocking up and down and he was grabbing her ass with his hands - god it felt so good- her hands grasped her hair and she groaned as she looked up to the ceiling, taking in the feeling.  Together they moved in one motion, needing, wanting, ready to be one - Arthur bit his lip as he felt himself nearing near the edge. They quickened the pace with a few stolen kisses here and there. 

“I’m so close, Sadie, I-”

“Fuck me hard, Arthur,” Sadie gasped.  

That was the cue.  Arthur quickened his thrusts, as did Sadie.  The pleasure rushed through him in waves and he finally felt as he could burst; he let out a loud grunt as he released himself.  Sadie collapsed on him, her blond hair cascading around her face. They took a few moments to take each other in, their breaths coming out in small gasps.  Arthur ran a hand down her face, bringing her in for a small kiss. 

After the lingering kiss, Sadie peeled herself away and cleaned herself in a quick motion, then settled next to him.  He cradled her next to him, her head on his shoulder. 

“That probably wasn't good for your foot,” she murmured sleepily. 

Arthur laughed.  

It took only a couple of minutes until they were asleep.  

He dreamed of a deer, drinking by a river.  He had dreamed of it many times; only this time, it felt closer.  It felt real. The deer’s color blended in a ray of gold and white, blending in with the skewed, hazy landscape behind it.  It was almost as if he was the deer, finding a right path, seeing the world through the animal’s eyes. And yet it was like he was watching the deer from afar, wondering what it meant.  And he knew. It was time to stop chasing-

And then he woke up, blinking, the sun warming his face.  The dreams never made sense. Chasing what? It would have to be something to contemplate later.  He had all the time in the world for that. In the meantime - he peered at the woman sleeping beside him - she was all that mattered to him right then.

As if she had sensed him, her eyes opened, her facing lighting up.  “Hey, big guy.”

He returned her small smile.  “Hey, pretty lady.”

“So… last night was something.”

Arthur gave a grunt at that, sitting up slowly, planting a kiss on her forehead.  He sank back on the bed frame, rubbing the tiredness from his face. The morning had come and he wished it hadn’t, in a way.  It had been peaceful sleeping next to her - he enjoyed the feel of her, the scent of her. It was the distraction he needed. He paused, taking in the glory that Sadie was in the morning.  Her smile - she hadn’t smiled much when they had first met, he realized - started something in him. Her smile only added to her beauty. The morning sun gave her a warm glow, her skin a soft white, a bit flushed after the night’s rendezvous.

“Shit,” Arthur said, tapping a finger against her neck.  “I bruised you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t care.”  Sadie pushed her hair aside.  “We might get some flack back in camp, though.”

“They need something to gossip about, anyways.  The gossip was gettin’ a little stale.”

They took a minute, contemplating what to say next.  

“I-”

“We-”

Arthur held up a hand.  “You first.”

Sadie bit her lip, looking down, playing with a strand of her hair.  She had sat up next to him, the sheet wrapped around her torso.  “This… this, what we did. It could mean somethin’. It’s been months since my… husband passed.  And I don’t know if I’m done healin’ quite yet.”

“Truth be told, it’s been awhile for me,” Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Since I had to care for a woman. And after what we did last night… we take it slow.  But we try.”

“We try.” Sadie said, her eyes locking on his.  Her eyes - a warm, chocolate haze in the sunlight - spoke with passion.  

Caught off guard by the swell of emotions piling up, Arthur leaned over and kissed her softly, her lips soft on his.  He pulled away, face inches away from hers. “Don’t get me wrong, Sadie. You’re a beautiful woman. Smart. Fierce. I know you have unfinished business with Dutch - as do I, but… I’m there for you.  I’ll stick by you. And if you don’t stop starin’ at me with those eyes… I’ll take you right now.”

Sadie’s eyes - filled with a love and understanding he hadn’t seen in a long time - turned into a mischievous and inviting look.  “How’s this, Arthur Morgan?” 

With a smirk, he took her in his arms and had his way with her once more, injured foot be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out well enough, but I had intended for it to go another direction. I am happy with the way it turned out, though.
> 
> I didn't realize RDR2 would suck me in like it had, but man, am I lost in that story. This might be a series of one-shots dealing with Arthur and Sadie throughout the story of Red Dead. I love those two.


End file.
